


Together, We'll Make It Through

by deadhuntress



Series: Season 12 Codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Supportive Castiel, Supportive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:45:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8353861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadhuntress/pseuds/deadhuntress
Summary: “I thought dinner would be different,” Dean said, gazing unseeingly at the oven in front of him. “I guess… I guess I’ve kinda built her up in my mind, y’know? Like I made her how I wanted, but she’s a real person. She’s her own person, not my memory, not Dad’s memory.” Episode coda for 12x02 Mamma Mia.





	

Dean took a long sip of his beer and studied the picture of himself as a kid, smiling sweetly at the camera as his mom hugged him from behind. He remembered the picture being taken, just barely. He’d been in the backyard of their house in Lawrence with his parents, before Sam was born, and he’d been playing catch with his mom as his dad lay on the grass, watching fondly and shouting encouragement; at least that’s what his mom had told him earlier that evening when he’d asked. He really only remembered what came next, stealing the ball and trying to run away in close pursuit by his mom. She grabbed him just in front of the shed, and he smiled and giggled and that’s when his dad had taken the picture.

Thinking of that moment now, though, felt strange. It had been nearly a lifetime ago to him, but to his mom, who was still trying to catch up with life in 2016, the memory was only a year or so old.

“God, we’re fucked up,” he murmured to himself. He let out a dry chuckle and took another sip of beer, just to choke on it when he heard a familiar voice say, “Who is fucked up?”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean complained between coughs. “Warn a guy.”

“I apologize,” Castiel replied. There was the soft shuffle of footsteps and the rustle of a trench coat, and then a warm body was pressed against Dean’s side. Dean shifted himself a little, nuzzling closer to Castiel, and relaxed as Castiel wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Castiel asked after a moment’s silence.

Dean shrugged. “Why d’you ask?”

“You’re hiding out in the kitchen,” Castiel said simply.

“Who said I was hiding?” Dean replied, unable to keep a little defensiveness from seeping into the words.

“Dean,” Castiel said firmly. “I spent months trapped in my own mind, hiding in this same kitchen. What’s wrong?”

Dean sighed, fingering the edge of the photo he’d dropped on his leg. His hand drifted to Castiel’s thigh – warm, firm, _familiar_. “I… It’s just weird. Everything’s weird,” he confided. “My mom doesn’t know me,” he said softly. “This day-” he briefly lifted his hand to gesture at the picture, “-to her it was only a year ago, but to me… I was a kid; I barely even remember this being taken. This picture, it’s always felt like another lifetime, before monsters, before hunting, before everything. How do I begin to explain all the stuff that’s happened since she – in the time she’s been gone? _Where_ do I begin?”

Castiel remained silent as Dean talked, rubbing Dean’s arm with the hand wrapped around his shoulder. “It will take time, Dean,” he said softly. “You will figure it out.”

“I thought dinner would be different,” Dean said, gazing unseeingly at the oven in front of him. “I guess… I guess I’ve kinda built her up in my mind, y’know? Like I made her how _I_ wanted, but she’s a real person. She’s her own person, not my memory, not Dad’s memory.”

“It’s a lot to get used to, for you and Sam as well as her,” Castiel reminded Dean. “But I have confidence that you _will_ get used to it, that you will make a new normal, so to speak. You just need to be patient.”

Dean huffed a dry laugh. “Patience. Right. That’s always been my strong suit.” He felt the gentle pressure of Castiel’s lips, curved into a smile, against his hair.

“I’ll help you, Dean,” Castiel murmured, breath heating Dean’s scalp. “I’m here with you. Forever. Remember that.”

“I know,” Dean said, tilting his head up for a warm kiss. “Me too.”

They kissed for a while then, forgetting the outside world in favor of their own private one right there, in the Men of Letters’ kitchen. By the time they separated, Dean’s lips felt puffy and slick and were probably flushed like Castiel’s.

“Come to bed?” Castiel offered as Dean rubbed his nose against the scruff of the angel’s jaw.

“Yeah. Just a minute,” Dean said, gathering the photos into a neat stack. “I wanna say goodnight to Mom.” He couldn’t help the small smile at that thought, at the reminder that doing so was possible for the first time since he was four.

Castiel’s gaze was fond when he helped Dean up off the floor. “Of course.”

\---

By the time Dean shuffled tiredly into his and Castiel’s room, teeth freshly brushed and jeans hanging over his arm, Castiel was in the gray sweatpants and old Led Zeppelin t-shirt he’d taken to wearing to bed. He didn’t really sleep, usually, but Dean had convinced him that changing into casual clothes would be more comfortable for both of them at night, and Castiel agreed.

Dean collapsed onto the bed and Castiel pulled him into his arms, carefully arranging the covers over them both.

“How is she?” Castiel asked.

“She’s good,” Dean replied. “She had Dad’s journal with her. Guess she’s about to find out who he became after she died,” he said, voice muffled by Castiel’s t-shirt. “I almost wish she didn’t have to know.”

“She deserves to know,” Castiel pointed out, though his tone was mild. “He was her husband.”

“I know,” Dean replied softly. He didn’t add anything else, didn’t mention that he wished his mom could live without the knowledge of what her husband had become, how he had treated his kids, how he’d turned to revenge and alcohol and obsession. Castiel already knew that; Dean didn’t need to say it.

After a long moment, something else occurred to Dean, something that he’d been meaning to mention earlier.

“You’re not an attack dog, you know.”

He could feel Castiel’s eyes trained on him, but couldn’t bring himself to meet them. “What they said, at the farmhouse,” he clarified. “You’re not. You’re family, to all of us, powered up or not.”

“I know that, Dean,” Castiel replied softly.

Dean nodded against Castiel’s chest. “Good,” he said. “Just makin’ sure. You’re family; you’re my partner, boyfriend, whatever.” He felt his cheeks heat up; he didn’t usually put a name to their relationship, partly because speaking it aloud would make it real to the world outside of the two of them and partly because, well… there wasn’t really a good name for what they were. And every time Dean asked Castiel for his opinion on the matter, Castiel would smirk and say, “You’re _mine_ , Dean,” which would make Dean’s cheeks and ears flush bright pink as he stammered an unconvincing complaint about Castiel being so sappy and then Castiel would kiss Dean to shut him up, which, unsurprisingly, worked every time.

“Kinda missed you at dinner,” Dean mumbled softly. “Probably woulda been less awkward.”

“You wanted _me_ around to make it less awkward?” Castiel teased, though his tone quickly grew more serious. “You three needed some time together,” he reminded Dean gently. “I’m already your family,” Castiel continued, making Dean’s heart swell; he told Castiel that he was family often, but loved it even more when Castiel was the one to say it. “You and Sam and your mom need to figure out how to fit into each other’s lives. I needed to give you some space to start doing so.”

Dean made a face. “I still _need_ you, Cas,” he mumbled. “Need your support.” He let out a wide yawn as Castiel’s nimble fingers combed through Dean’s hair.

“I know, Dean,” Castiel replied softly. He pressed a gentle kiss to Dean’s temple. “I’m not going anywhere.” He was silent for a moment before continuing, “We’ll make it through. Together.”

Dean nodded and rolled over, pulling Castiel with him so that Dean was on his back with Castiel stretched out on top of him. His right hand smoothed up Castiel’s back and through his hair – paying extra attention to the back of Castiel’s neck, where Castiel had told him that angels were very sensitive to touch – while the left curled around the firm curves of Castiel’s jaw, leading the angel into a deep kiss. Their mouths and bodies moved together slowly, heatedly, and Dean reveled in the comfort that came from having Castiel sprawled on top of him, shielding him from the outside world; it was a feeling that Dean craved more than he was willing to admit. Beneath Castiel’s strong, muscular body, Dean felt _safe_ , protected, something that he’d rarely, if ever, felt during his life. It was a need he didn’t even realize he craved until the first time Castiel had pinned Dean to the bed with his body, and ever since, when Dean was feeling particularly vulnerable or unsure, he would silently pull Castiel on top of him and allow his body and mind to relax.

Dean lost track of time as they kissed, giving himself up completely to the sensations of warm mouths colliding and noses brushing and stubble grazing against stubble as he allowed Castiel to take control of the kissing. He would have readily gone on all night if he could, but his body had other plans, and he eventually interrupted the kiss with an accidental yawn.

Castiel pulled back after a final brush of lips and smiled fondly at Dean. “Get some sleep,” he said softly, carefully lowering his weight completely onto the mattress and wrapping his body around Dean’s. “I’ll be here.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have found that I really love writing episode codas...
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr at [thetideseternaltune](http://thetideseternaltune.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or [hunterangelkisses](http://hunterangelkisses.tumblr.com/) (SPN sideblog)!


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